


Paved With Intention

by katty_tpose



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Oneshot, crossposted on amino, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25068904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katty_tpose/pseuds/katty_tpose
Summary: Not a whisper and not a breath, evermore, evermore.
Kudos: 1





	Paved With Intention

**Author's Note:**

> wow, hi. 
> 
> i wrote this poem out of necessity to avoid getting kicked for inactivity from a group i'm in on amino — the month's required prompt was to write about "Freedom". 
> 
> for the most part, this was written last minute and you can probably tell lol. i did manage to hide a few things in it, which you can try to find, but since i didn't give myself much time to write it, i wasn't able to put the amount of detail i usually like to insert, and it's unfortunately very short.

Bright lights of the little phantom's candle guide her way at midnight, the candle's flame flickers in plight against the whispering winds' strife.

Under the moonlight lies a building, its aroma of death. Inside, she roamed in silence, heard not a whisper and not a breath, not a soul to fret.

Roaming through the corridors, she examined the walls, decor and posters adorns and enthralls, yet the blithe atmosphere, bitter now, befalls.

Not a moment later, one unhung drawing of the halls caught fire by way of the flame on her candle's desire, the drawn rabbit no more than pyre.

Intentioned arson it could've been, yet here she'd desire to burn not a thing, not a whisper and not a breath and not a soul to burn yet, thus no inferno could begin.

"Not until a voice is heard or puppet strings appear," said she, "not until then shall I ignite this place here." Not until her freedom is threatened shall she fear.

Gone is the will of the wisp of the flame, gone is the one that had carried the blame, all that is left is the strings of Her Dame, evermore, evermore. 

Lost embers burn her mind and her thoughts, Marionette strings bind her limbs into knots, her freedom of requital she finds she allots.

In this tomb of a building from other ghouls she hears weeping, or perhaps fools who are bleating, Her tools that are deceiving.

Burn them all with the papers and rags for doing her wrong, for keeping her here for too long, burn them all and burn their prolonged song.

End of the corridor, four ghouls she hears singing, a chorus of malicious naiveté in her mind is ringing, a web of lies and empty promises the four and Her are stringing.

Resting no longer her candle's flame burns the papers and rags, burns the ghouls and the puppeteer she hears now laughs, burns this tomb of a building as it should've been and gags.

The ashes of them, she cries, are not to be found, yet the dripping wax of her candle covered in her ashes is abound, and the flame on her candle has all but drowned.

Yet lone she finds herself in the nothingness abyss, not a whisper and not a breath and not a soul to longer miss, lone she is in her own death's bliss, evermore, evermore.

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like, take the time to read the original post on Amino with this link:  
> http://aminoapps.com/p/kwl30s


End file.
